Our Own Personal Eve

For many years Joe and I would fly off somewhere to celebrate New Year's Eve and to suffer New Year's Day. Our prime two choices were New York City and San Francisco. Well, actually we went to New York only once, got caught in the crushing crowd in Times Square and decided to spend the holiday on the west coast thereafter.

We stayed at a run down hotel, that we really liked because it had real character, which was directly across from Frenchies Adult Boutique - which often decorated their store with a Santa in a sleigh being pulled by seven blow up sheep. We were within walking distance from Reflections, a bar, no longer there, where we liked to drink, conveniently located next to the Wing Lum restaurant. We'd eat, we'd drink, we'd 'party hard.' It was lots of fun.

Neither Joe or I can remember how it is that we decided, or even if we actively decided, to no longer travel to the States at the end of the year. All we know is that our tradition changed. We ended up coming to Toronto, we lived in Quebec at the time, for the holiday. We had a favourite bar and a favourite Chinese restaurant - both gone now. We'd eat, we'd party - and we'd welcome the New Year.

We can't remember how it came to be that, over time, we stopped going out for New Year's celebrations. Nor can we remember how it ended up that we look forward to, staying at home, Joe with his beer me with my tea and being in bed by 8:00pm and snoring at 8:01. But that's what happened.

Funny thing is, with these changes, we don't feel like anything much has been lost. We enjoyed those times for what they were and for who we were at the time. We equally enjoy our times now. There are no regrets, there are no longing desires for 'the good old drunk days' of our youth. We, long ago, decided that we wouldn't be held captive by traditions that no longer served their purpose, that we were free to be able to make our life the way we wanted it to be.

We have no idea what our tradition will be in 5 years, but for now, it's tea, beer and bed.

Oddly, when I mention our New Year's plans, I get kind of sorrowful looks. People often love to look at another's life from the perspective of their own. What might seem sad for them, is wonderful for us. What might seem fun to them sound horribly dull for us. That's to be expected.

But it's the question, "So you don't go away for New Year's because you're disabled now?" Why would every change in our lifestyle have to be laid at the feet of disability? Why can't we just be changing as people? This year I've travelled to San Francisco, to Edmonton, to Boston, to Halifax, to Fredrickton, to Kingston, to Ukiah, to Eureka, to New York, to Harrisburg, I'll stop there ... and yet somehow I can't get on a plane to fly to San Francisco because of my disability. How odd.

Things change.

Times change.

People change.

So we'll celebrate British New Year's at 7:00pm and then, chat over a couple of drinks and then head off to bed.

Happy.

Which is how you are supposed to enter the New Year.